Lost, But Never Forgotten
by TheFinalResistance
Summary: For years, Red dwelt on Mt. Silver while the outside world underwent radical changes under a new Elite Four and Champion, losing the true spirit of Pokemon battling. Now a forgotten figure, he is called upon to return and restore order by challenging the usurpers, taking back what is rightfully his and showing in the process that the Champion may be lost, but he is never forgotten.
1. Blue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon.  
**

* * *

_Mount Silver was many things. Hostile, terrifying, towering, to name but a few. As one of Johto's highest peaks, perhaps second only to the behemoth known as Mount Quena, Mount Silver was a landmark known far and wide through both the Kanto and Johto regions, on whose border it stood._

_Thus it was a surprise for people who heard about the mountain to know that people tended to stay away from it. Surely, a mountain so iconic would have attracted tourists from afar like Combees to sunflowers. But no, that was not the case. Truth be told, that supposition could not be further from the truth. With its frigid blizzards and jagged pathways, the mountain had made itself as unwelcoming as it could. Sure, people liked a bit of snow, but devastating snowstorms were not the common man's idea of fun. _

_But that never stopped the rumours. In fact, the uninviting nature of the mountain only helped fueled them._

_A ghost trainer, some said. A madman, countered others. And then there were those who claimed that it could only be a god. No one was sure who it was that lived atop the harsh peak. But then again, no one was certain that someone even resided there in the first place. A few souls brave enough to try and conquer the soaring mountain only to be defeated in the end by the labyrinth within claimed that there was someone - or something - in there. Something which had defended them from harm when their own Pokemon fell in battle to the immensely powerful monsters who dwelt within the rocky caves._

_But like most rumours, these were called immature by most folk, who claimed that they were nothing but stories made up to entertain children and grown-ups who were stuck in their own childhood. And so with the onward march of time, people moved on. The stories remained, though they were rarely told, but even the staunchest believers were convinced that they were just that: stories. _

_And so, people chose to forget the legend of the ghost of Mount Silver. _

_The world had chosen to move on, to change for the worst. _

_And it would take the revival of a legend to set things right. _

* * *

The orange dragon, reared its head, leathery wings spread wide open, and held its mouth wide open, letting out a deafening roar before a torrent of red flames burst from its mouth, the heat from the fire melting the snow underneath it. Its opponent responded just as quickly. A clicking sound signaled its cannons locking into place. The blue Pokemon pressed harder on the ground, its feet digging into the snow to provide it support. This weight shifting was instantly followed up by a powerful blast of water rocketing out of the two cannons on either side of it.

The fire and water met in the middle, not budging an inch. The water put out the fire but had to pay a price as it turned into vapour. Soft but calculating brown eyes watched the clash of the elements for a while. There was no way to know how long it had been since the two Pokemon had fired their attacks since their was no watch on hand. Without warning, the owner of the aforementioned eyes raised his hand and brought it down in front of him like a Machoke chopping wood, before turning around, his red cap perched atop his jet black hair.

Two pairs of brown eyes clashed as the black-haired trainer looked at the newcomer, who was wrapped in a cloak as brown as his hair, his eyes wide open in a mixture of shock and relief. Slowly, the gaze of the black-haired young man became less cold, though not exactly warm, quite a contrast from his soft look when he was staring at his beasts duke it out.

"Red..." the newcomer's gentle voice trailed off.

He had said all he wanted to in one word.

"Blue," he replied, in a slightly raspy voice, one that indicated disuse.

"It's been too long, Champion."

Red merely nodded.

* * *

"How do you live here?" asked Blue, trying to break the ice between the pair once he had found himself a place to sit: a stone bench carved out by a Pokemon. "I'm dressed up for the snow and I'm still freezing in here. And look at yourself." He pointed towards Red's red jacket and blue jeans.

Red, who had chosen to sit down on the ground on a patch of rock without snow after withdrawing his Charizard and Blastoise, shrugged. There was another drawn out period of silence. Red did not know what to say and, if he could read his old friend right, Blue did not know how to say what he wanted to. The words seemed to elude him.

Finally, after an eternity, the brown-haired trainer spoke up, "I thought it would be easier than this. I had it all thought out in my head. But now that I'm here, I just don't know. After so many years, can you really blame me? I guess you can. I never came to find you, Red. There wasn't a night when I didn't consider climbing this godforsaken mountain and dragging you back. I even told Gramps about it but he told me to forget it. He said that this was where you wanted to be and I shouldn't be dragging you down against your own will, that you'd return when you felt the time was right. Tell me, Red. Is this really what you wanted?"

As before, Red sad there in silence, his face an emotionless mask as he continued stroking a Poke Ball.

"I know you're not mute, Red. Quit acting like you are," Blue continued, his voice full of emotion. "The old man might think that you want to be here, but I think different. I think you're just afraid of returning, of coming home. You left us all - me, Gramps, your mother and all your other Pokemon. You left the world behind and it chose to move on. You must think I'm such a lousy friend for bringing all this up even though we've just met after such a long time."

"How's my mom?"

Blue was surprised by the sudden query, but glad nonetheless that he finally got something out of his old rival.

"She's aged. We all have. She still misses you. It hasn't been easy for her, you know, to keep secret the fact that you're here on this mountain. She's...become withdrawn. You were her world, Red. When you left, a part of her died."

"Professor Oak?" asked Red, not displaying any emotion apart from lowering his eyes ever further.

"Gramps..." Blue wondered. "You know him. Pokemon are his life. You were like a second grandson to him, Red. And then you were much more. You were also his second Champion. He still looks after your Pokemon for you. They remember you, too - even the ones you never really used. But then again, he hasn't exactly been the same person, not for a while now."

Sensing the grimace in his voice, Red found his interest piqued ever so slightly.

"What happened?" The words just spilling out from his mouth.

"You don't know?" Blue asked, disbelievingly. "You spend nine years on this mountain and you don't find it fit to concern yourself with what's going on around you? That sounds just like the Red I used to know." There was a sad smile on his face for a second before it evaporated, leaving behind a grim look. "The world, Red, has changed more than you could ever imagine."

Red raised an eyebrow, telling him to elaborate.

"I...I'll try and make this as simple as possible. After the two of us, er, tore through the Elite Four, there was a time when no one managed to get past even Lorelei. Lance had initially been a bit worried about what would happen if someone beat him since the defending Champion was absent. But like I said, there were no problems. Between the first and second year after your departure, though, the Elite Four fell to four trainers who replaced them. And then a fifth, their leader, called Gray, was crowned Champion.

"The Elite Four's word carries a lot of weight. They brought about a complete overhaul, turning Pokemon battles into mere entertainment. They expounded that Pokemon were tools to be used in battle, that they aren't capable of 'human' emotions, as he called them. You tell people something for long enough and they'll eventually believe it, especially the newer trainers. Pokemon battling isn't what it used to be, Red. You should see it sometimes. The way people drive their Pokemon to the point of death just for the sake of victory...it's revolting. They even made it legal to kill Pokemon in battle. The former Elite Four's still warring against them. But they're missing something."

"The Gym Leaders...?" Red questioned.

"It wasn't an easy choice for them. They could either accept the new ways or pack their bags. A few of them left their posts while others stayed since they knew that if they left, their replacements would be worse. They chose the lesser of two evils in their eyes. I was offered the position of the leader of Viridian City's Gym. I declined."

Once again, a silence so thick it could be cut with a knife enveloped the two as they sat there, each staring at the ground.

"In case you're wondering," Blue spoke. "They still remember you. Well, a few do. It's been so long, after all. After you came here, I heard news of amateur explorers who got lost in the caves here and found themselves at the mercy of wild Pokemon, only to be saved by an unknown force. People ate the gossip up at first. They called you the ghost of Mount Silver. But most people called all this mere fabrication. They were right, I guess. You're no ghost. But you're still there in the records. No one's made the connection between this ghost and you, of course. To them, you're The Lost Champion, the one who wasn't there to defend his title."

Red graced his face with the smallest semblance of a smile. This did not go unnoticed by Blue, who chose this moment to push forward.

"The option's always open," he said, pointing to the entrance to the interior of the mountain, behind which lay the path leading down to the ground. "You'll always be welcome back home. I'm sure there are loads of people who'd want to see you. Besides..." his voice trailed off.

Red knew what was coming. He tilted his head a bit, telling his rival to say what he wanted to. Yet, there was no need for Blue to say anything. Red hadn't been one to speak much and that had made him skilled in understanding what others wanted to say without them having to get their vocal cords in motion. No one said anything as Blue attempted to phrase what he wanted to speak.

The black-haired man, though, had almost made his decision. This was perhaps the moment that he had been waiting for. Just maybe, it was time. As he looked around himself at the destroyed chunks of rock visible beneath the thick layer of snow, he found himself thinking. Was this all he was meant to do? For years, he had suppressed the voice inside him, the voice which urged him to return home and accomplish what he was capable of. Pokemon Masters weren't meant to be mountain hermits. At least not forever. He slowly but fluidly got to his feet, lowering his hat over one eye, Poke Ball at the ready in his right hand. Blue looked at his friend, seeing the faintest remnants of his former fire.

What Red wanted to say came out as two words.

"I'll help."

As a ferocious Charizard materialised, roaring loudly to the heavens as it lowered itself, preparing to take off, Blue could only smile.

The Champion had returned.

* * *

_There. I kept this chapter short because it's meant to be an introduction to the story. Please leave a review on your way out. _


	2. Crimson

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon.  
**

_I would like to thank everyone who reviewed this story and added it to their favourites/alerts. _

_Without further ado, the second chapter. _

* * *

How long they had been flying, Red did not know, neither did he really care. When one spent as long on a desolate mountain as he did, one tended to forget about the sedate flow of time. He was in no hurry. His Charizard underneath him apparently thought different as it accelerated, body completely horizontal and streamlined to maximise its fight capabilities as it passed over empty, untrodden paths, avoiding any populated areas. Slowly but surely, the landscape transformed, becoming increasingly rustic but not overly so.

"We're almost there," Blue's voice called over the roar of the wind as he clung to Red's Pokemon, not used to flying at high speeds on any Pokemon besides his own.

All he got was a nod in return.

And then Red saw it.

The place where it all began. His first home. With its small collection of quaint houses scattered here and there, Pallet Town was the epitome of a small countryside town. He felt his jaw tighten when the familiar scent of grass and flowers hit him. He was not sure if he had missed it. Maybe he had, maybe he hadn't. Neither was he sure whether or not he wanted to know the answer to that. But as he saw the wind turbine spinning slowly behind a brick building he knew to be the laboratory of one Samuel Oak, it finally hit him. Throughout his journey from Mount Silver, his mind had been switched off, concentrating on only the sights around him. But now, he finally realised the gravity of his situation.

He was home.

With a nudge from Blue on his back, Red pointed towards the lab. Before they knew it, they were circling the building, staying away from the massive blades of the turbine. Now when his destination was so close within his reach, he did not know if he wanted to arrive. He could see an old man in a white coat leaning over a pond, holding what looked like a Poliwag.

"It's time, Red. Welcome back," Blue whispered as Charizard spun around and dove with a roar, the echo sending a few Pidgey fleeing from the nearby trees.

No sooner than the fire-type's large feet touched the ground, the aged professor spun around, dropping the water-type into the pond and flicking a Poke Ball into the air with surprising agility. A bipedal dragon with small wings and a light orange body appeared in front of him. The professor's Dragonite reared, launching a yellow Hyper Beam. Alarmed but not stunned, Charizard, wings spread wide open, responded with a powerful Flamethrower. Both attacks collided, nullifying each other as the two Pokemon stared each other down.

"Geez, old man!" yelled Blue, a mixture of panic and mirth in his tone. "Is that any way to greet your grandson?"

The professor had the decency to look embarrassed for a moment but he quickly covered it up with a drop of his jaw, indicating surprise as his grandson drew closer, hand held out.

"Blue!" he cried, shaking his hand. "You never told me you were coming over! You took me by surprise. I...I was just alarmed, that's all."

"That's an understatement. You could have killed us!"

"Not really. Dragonite doesn't harm anyone. I've still got some of my old reflexes. I had enough time to calculate that with a Charizard like that, whoever it was would be able to defend themselves," Oak explained, pointing over to the fire-type Pokemon who was standing behind Blue, its wings still held out. "I never knew you got yourself a Charizard, Blue. And a fine one it is, just like _his _was. In fact, it looks even stronger!"

Blue noticed the sad smile that passed over his grandfather's face and responded with a bright one of his own.

"That's the point, Gramps," he said. "Er, that isn't my Charizard at all."

"Come again?"

"When I said 'You could have killed us', I wasn't just referring to myself and the Pokemon."

The look of confusion on Oak's face increased, serving only to amuse Blue further as he prepared to break the news to the old man.

"He's back."

"Quit being so arcane! Who-" the irritated professor quickly shut up, finding nothing to say as Charizard withdrew its wings, turning its neck to the side to reveal a figure wearing a baseball hat which leaned forward so that its peak covered his eyes - a style very familiar to the old man, a style he saw everyday in a photo he had with him.

As the rider unmounted, Oak's feet began moving of their own accord as he struggled to utter a sound apart from a stifled sob and mutters of 'Red...'

"Y-you're really here...?" he asked, holding the young man by his shoulders, uncertain as to how to greet someone after so long.

At last, he gave in, holding the boy he considered a grandson tightly in his arms. Red, as always, stood there, also unsure of what to do. He had never been one for hugs. His mind raced as he tried to think of a response, but he only found dead ends. So when the professor looked at him straight on, the black-haired trainer merely nodded. Oak understood. If this was how Red communicated best, then so be it.

"D-does Delia know?" he asked abruptly.

Red shook his head.

* * *

He had to do this on his own. That was what he had told Blue and the professor when they pestered him to go see his mother. And they had agreed with him. It was something he needed to accomplish on his own. They were not going to intrude.

Red was now standing at the door of the same house he had left all those years ago to fulfill his dreams. Pallet Town was the place where it all began and this house was the spot. It was still as inviting as ever even if looked, in some inexplicable way, sad. _Odd,_ was all he could think of as he took in the flowers of all colours growing on either side of him in the small lawn. How could something so bright look so grave. Maybe it was just him who saw things that way.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door. Once, twice. _Tap. Tap. _His heartbeat accelerated, an unfamiliar feeling for him outside of battle. It came to the point where it felt like his chest would burst. Then a click sounded. He tensed. The door had been unlocked. Slowly, it opened, a nostalgic smell wafting out.

Blue was right. She had aged. Not much, perhaps, but she was certainly different. Her black hair, tied up in a ponytail, now held gray streaks and her face had begun to show wrinkles. They only served to make her look more dignified in his opinion. But her eyes - they were what affected him most. They were the same brown ones as his. Did his own eyes look as sad?

_Clang._

The metal pot she had been holding in her hands fell to the ground, having slowly slipped out of the loosening grip of her trembling fingers. Red raised his hands, trying to say something as the woman's eyes brightened with tears.

"Y-you're... R-Red..."

He gave a slow nod.

With those words, the dam holding back her tears burst. She wept. She cried in his chest as her arms entangled him in an embrace - the only embrace he ever felt comfortable in. Her sobs only served to weaken his own resolve as he reached out to hold her. This was where he belonged. Under the crushing force of her arms, he was unable to move, not that he really wanted to. So he just stood there, waiting for her cries to subside.

Once she managed to gain a certain degree of control over herself, Delia looked up at her son and said in a tone which feared the worst, "You're not leaving again, are you?"

"No," he breathed out.

A smile, not a sad one, graced her lips, though her eyes remained watery. She pulled him, dragging him inside as she picked up the pot she had dropped. Red found himself seated in the lounge on a sofa, sitting opposite a television set. Not much had changed in the past years except for the newer display. The couches were still the same, arranged at right angles to each other in three directions, a table in their middle over a carpet. The TV was mounted on the wall in the fourth direction so that anyone seated there had a good view of it.

"What have you been doing, Red?" his mother fussed, removing his hat and turning his face around to have a good look at the small scars that he had received up on the rocky mountain. "You haven't even been eating properly. Look at yourself. You're as thin as the last time! Tell me everything, but not right now. I've got food in the oven and I'm not getting it burnt."

With that, she bustled over to the kitchen, muttering something Red couldn't make out - not that he wanted to know. He looked around, finding what he was looking for on the second sofa. Having gotten the remote, the looked at it bemusedly. He didn't remember there being as many buttons on the previous television's remote. _This must be what Blue calls progress_, he thought as he flicked it on.

He had never been one to watch TV, which was why he just kept changing the channels, not even bothering to pay attention to a single thing. After all, who cared about the love story of a Nidoking and Nidoqueen? Especially when it was just a movie. In his daze, he almost switched past what he had been looking for.

"_And there you have it, folks!_" cried the commentator as two Pokemon, a Golem and a Steelix, clashed, the metal snake holding the grass-type in its iron grip. "_Looks like this is it for the challenger. The gym leader's Steelix is just too strong!_"

Red frowned as he saw looked at the corner of the screen, which said, '_Gym Watch_'. At the bottom, in clear bold letters, it said, '_Olivine City Gym_'. From what Red could infer, this was a channel dedicated to showing Gym battles. And that wasn't the only strange thing. As far as he remembered, Gym battles never had audiences. The match on the screen was being watched by a live audience of at least a hundred, if he was to take a guess. As the camera shifted, he saw a a brown-haired woman in a summer dress commanding the Steelix. While he himself never challenged the Johto Gyms, Red knew that this was Jasmine, the same Gym leader from before his departure.

He narrowed his eyes as he looked at the Golem. It was well trained, that was for sure. Its rocky body held many chipped off dents, remnants of harsh battles. This was not over.

_"What's this?!" _the commentator said dramatically as the Golem managed to smash its feet into the ground, sending tremors of Earthquakerippling through the Gym's battlefield, causing the Steelix to roar in painas it lost its balance. _"The tables have turned again! What a match this has been! Steelix is all that stands between victory and the challenger. And it's already weak from its battle with Lorna's Poliwhirl. Will Lorna be able to do it?!"_

The challenger, Lorna, as she had just been called, grinned as she commanded, "_Alright, Golem! Get on top of that snake and crush it! Earthquake!"_

If Red had been one for blatant displays of surprise, he was sure that his eyeballs would have popped out. The audience cheered as the Golem jumped up and smashed into the steel-type Pokemon, its feet raised, poised to attack. Another Earthquake. This time, though, instead of going into the ground, the vibrations ran straight through the body of the Steelix. Red grimaced as the Pokemon's body took dent after dent, almost on the verge of being bent out of shape. This was beyond what he had been expecting. What was worse was how the people in the Gym cheered her on.

_"That's enough!"_ the Gym Leader called. _"Return, Steelix!"_

The wounded Pokemon was returned to its Poke Ball, its trainer staring at the capsule and whispering words that the microphone could not pick up.

_"And it's over!"_ the commentator screeched in his grating voice. _"The winner is the challenger from Goldenrod City!_ _I said it before and I'll say it again: What a match, ladies and gentlemen! A stunning and well deserved win!"_

And just like that, Red switched the television off, wondering about what he had just seen. _Stunning? __Well deserved?_ Maybe, but that wasn't how you were supposed to do it, at least not when your opponent was unwilling to go all out. From what he had seen, the Gym Leader's Steelix had Golem in a perfect hold. If it had wanted to, it could have attempted to crush the ball of rock. But no, Jasmine had chosen not to go down that path - something her opponent had taken advantage of.

* * *

After being forced by his mother to consume as much as he could and recount his 'adventures' during his time away - which just involved staying on Mount Silver (He had left out the part where he was going to challenge the Elite Four) - Red found himself back in the company of Professor Oak and his grandson, Blue.

When all three men were seated in the lobby of the laboratory, the oldest man spoke up, "So, Blue, now that we've got the reintroductions out of the way, mind telling me why you arranged to have the three of us meet here? Not that I'm complaining... It's just so sudden."

In his usual nonchalant manner, Blue replied, "You know me, Gramps - always one for surprises. And I think you know what I want to talk about."

He motioned towards Red, who had been sitting silently till now. He scowled when Oak did not completely get the hint.

"So it has something to do with Red," the professor said. "I could figure that much out."

"League Champions don't just come down from their mountains to make small talk, old man. Don't you remember the conversation we had, what, last month? Or maybe the one before that? I'm not sure, but that's irrelevant."

The professor's eyes darted upwards as he tried to recall what his grandson was talking about. Where the boy got his habit of talking in riddles, Oak did not know, but he was sure that it wasn't one of his good ones. Then it dawned on him, hitting him like a rock on the head.

"Blue! You bring a man back home after so many years and it's because you want him to fight?!" he exclaimed disbelievingly.

"Calm down. I'll have you know that our mutual friend here agreed to do so without me saying a word. After all, who doesn't love a challenge? I'd do it myself, but I'm a bit rusty these days," Blue admitted.

Shaking his head, Oak turned to Red, "I don't know what he told you, Red, but I want to apologise if he forced you into this." When Red shook his head, the white-haired man resumed, "That... that's good then. Beyond good, even. I presume he told you everything?"

Red shrugged, indicating that he himself didn't know much about the whole dilemma to be certain if Blue had described the situation completely to him. But from what he had watched on the television in his house, he knew that Blue hadn't been wrong in painting a picture of what was happening.

"I saw it on TV," the black-haired man spoke in his signature low voice. "The Olivine Gym."

"The Gym Watch," said Blue in understanding. "We were watching that, too. The way that Golem attacked even after its victory was assured. In the past, attacking an already weak opponent in such a brutal manner would have been grounds for some sort of penalty. Kinda makes me sick how the people actually enjoy it."

Professor Oak nodded. "Yes, the freestyle form of battle appeals to the masses. The public wants fights to the death and that's what they get. From what I hear, Jasmine isn't all that popular among people due to her habit of withdrawing her Pokemon if she sees no chance of victory."

On the contrary, Red thought that Jasmine's was an admirable trait, even if he himself would also sometimes force his Pokemon to give it all they got to push for the win. But that was because he trusted their strength. He had faith in their power and they believed in the trainer who raised them to their current powerful selves.

"That's nothing. You should see the Elite Four's matches. People are willing to give a limb to get a seat to watch one of those massacres," Blue commented, his voice grave and solemn. "Don't look so surprised. I know that back in our day, all league matches were private, confined to the two battlers, except for recordings that were kept at the Indigo Plateau. Not anymore. In fact, when this whole thing started out, before they could build a whole network around Pokemon battles, the new establishment tested out the market by broadcasting recordings of previous battles. They were a huge hit among the audiences, paving the way for live showings. They even showed our final battle, Red. Remember that, Gramps?"

His grandfather smiled nostalgically, "Ah, yes. That was a show to remember. Two of my finest trainers at the pinnacle of their journey - one Champion, the other his successor."

"Just... just don't go there," Blue told him. He didn't like being reminded of how his reign had lasted for only a short while.

"What about Lance and the others?" Red inquired.

Blue had told him that the former Elite Four had faced up to the new one several times but he had also added that, apparently, they were missing something.

"At first, they had been surprised, you know," Oak said. "Successive losses against four trainers aren't exactly the most common event. Pokemon League rules state that if a trainer beats the whole Elite Four, he or she may choose to replace one of them. This isn't exactly all that common, though. Most elect to go forward and challenge the Champion and, if they loose, they choose to go train so they can return later. These people, though, defeated the Elite Four and took their place. No one thought anything odd. After all, it was all within the rules.

"But they still needed a Champion. With you gone, Red, all someone needed to do was defeat the new Elite Four. And then a new trainer named Gray showed up. He was in league with the Elite Four, though. Being the mind behind them, it was natural that he ascended to the rank of Champion of Kanto and Johto."

"And that," Blue took over the explaining. "Was when trouble began. The Elite Four and the Champion hold a lot of sway, you already know that much. In fact, they're pretty much the governing body when it comes to battling Pokemon. And they introduced all these new modifications. The media loved it, of course. Broadcasters leapt at the opportunity to make lucrative deals for showing battles. A whole new industry popped up. People resisted at first, but overtime, like every other change, the new style became something everyone got used to. It was normal for them now.

"Lance, Bruno, Lorelei, Koga, Agatha, Will, Karen. All of them have been part of the Elite Four at one time or another after your departure. Like us, they didn't stand for the changes. But obviously, just like their previous battles against their replacements, they lost. They did manage to defeat a few of them, but they never got past the fourth member. Heck, Gray even defeated the Sinnoh Champion in an exhibition match. That was one to remember. What was her name again?"

"Cynthia," Oak mentioned.

"That's the one. To make a long story short, the former Elite were made to look as people who didn't want to see progress or whatever it was that they called it. Imagine that, eh. The public's former idols made to look like rebels. So unless the new League is defeated, we're powerless since the takeover was technically legal. They can't alter the rules that state what happens if they lose though. They have to give up their position if the winner demands it. The whole world follows those guidelines which were made to prevent abuse of power by altering the rules to permanently secure a position among the Four. If they attempted to change those, things could get ugly. We'd be ostracized by the Leagues of other regions. "

Red nodded in understanding, everything beginning to fit together. He had known about the method of getting an Elite Four position, but he had not been aware that these rules were unalterable. At first, he had been having second thoughts. After all, how would just beating someone in battle restore his position if they had completed a takeover and changed the rules. But now, he was reinvigorated.

"What course of action do you intend to follow then?" Oak asked, his curiosity levels at an all time high.

Red responded by digging into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out a dented metal case, painted a faded green. Turning it around, he opened it. The professor smiled as he saw the eight badges of Kanto, each polished to the extreme, staring back at him. Their owner glanced over to his rival, raising his eyebrow.

Getting the cue, Blue spoke up again, "It's like you read my mind. But then again, it's not that special since that was the obvious course of action..." He smirked, seeing the faint scowl on Red's face, reminding him of the old times. "Once you have eight badges, challenging the Elite Four is a right. Moreover, you can battle them as many times as you want, provided you have all eight of them with you. The only thing that prevents people from abusing this fact is that if they lose once, they know they're not going to stand a chance the second time either unless they take some time off to go get stronger. Even if Red's a former Champion, he'll need to get past all four of our _friends_ before he can face off against the current Champion."

"So are you up for it, Red?" Oak asked optimistically.

All he got in return was an upward curl at the corners of Red's mouth - an expression which the professor mirrored.

"Excellent," the old man said, getting up, his hands clenched together. "Blue will make the necessary arrangements, having you registered to battle. We need to do this work a bit early so that they have a day or two to make the necessary broadcasting arrangements, which basically just involves selling tickets. For an Elite Four match, they'll sell out in a day. So you don't have to worry about it being long."

"One more thing, we'll be keeping this thing under the wraps," Blue said, echoing what Red had told him on the flight back from Mount Silver. "So the only ones who're going to know of this challenge before the actual matches are the three of us. We aren't telling anyone. Not even Lance, Gramps," he added as Oak raised his finger to argue.

Red frowned when he heard this. To say that he had asocial tendencies was an understatement - a fact that he acknowledged, a reality that perhaps he was even proud of. But if everything went according to plan, judging from what he had heard from the two other men, he would instantly become the center of unwanted and unneeded attention.

"Not Red," he stated tersely.

"What do you mean 'not Red'?" Blue scowled. "That's who you are."

"Too much attention."

"Tsk," Blue shook his head. "That's so like you. Well, what do you want to be called? Ginger? Yes, that would stand out nicely. 'Ginger Crowned Champion'. An attention-grabbing headline if I ever saw one. Come on, Red, learn to laugh a little. Fine, I'll see what I can do."

"And please don't make it 'Ginger'," Oak interjected as his grandson walked off, leaving the two alone. "So, Red, let's have a look at your Pokemon, shall we?"

Shrugging , the trainer led the professor outside into the windy open, looking around to see if anyone was watching. Apart from a few Pidgey and Spearow in the trees, there was no one around. So he took out the six Poke Balls mounted over his belt and tossed them high up, red beams projecting from the center of each one as Oak looked on enthusiastically.

The air came alive with the sound of roars and growls as six Pokemon emerged.

The red dragon, Charizard, announced its arrival in the usual fashion, letting out a stream of fire, a tactic Red had taught it to intimidate opposing Pokemon and, many times, their trainers. Blastoise took its place next to the fire-type, its cannons clicking, ready to attack before its attention was diverted, causing the Pokemon to look longingly at the blue lake a small distance away from where it stood. Venusaur, Red's grass-type, plopped down on the grass once it realised that it had not been called on to battle, looking relieved to be in its element once again.

Lapras, calm as ever, froze a section of the ground with its Ice Beam, making itself a comfortable patch of ice to seat itself on. Snorlax stood alert behind the rest of the Pokemon, its face a mask void of any emotion - something the professor noted since most Snorlax preferred to either sleep or eat, not stand at attention like soldiers. Last but not least, Pikachu, the electric mouse, materialised on top of the fat Pokemon.

Red held out his arm, causing the yellow Pokemon to jump down and climb onto its trainer's shoulders, who was looking at the old man looking over each of the Pokemon.

"What an odd Snorlax. It's actually awake," he was saying, looking at the large Pokemon, who looked down and at him and said its name when the professor poked its belly. "No, no, I don't mean any harm. And this Venusaur, what a magnificent flower! Charizard - fierce as ever, I see. Your Lapras and Blastoise, though, look like they would much prefer being somewhere else."

Knowing what Oak meant, Red waved his hand in a signal which the two water-types interpreted as permission to leave as they jetted off towards the lake, Lapras choosing to swim around while Blastoise opted to sink in, not bothering to stay at the water's surface.

"And Pikachu, of course," Oak addressed the yellow Pokemon, who jumped over to him after earning a nod from its trainer. "Friendly as ever, I see. As for you, Red, I see you've been keeping them busy." The scars on the creature's bodies hadn't gone unnoticed by the professor. While they weren't hurtful by any means, they did indicate that the Pokemon had faced harsh situations, whether they be tough battles or inhospitable climate.

"Nothing else to do on a mountain," Red remarked in his trademark laconic fashion.

Oak grinned at the trainer's dry sense of unintended humour before resuming his examination of the Pokemon. Examination, in Red's opinion, was an inaccurate word in this situation. The professor looked like he had been handed an early birthday present as he poked and prodded the powerhouses as much as they allowed him to, taking his time on Venusaur and Lapras, who were the friendliest of the lot after the yellow rodent on Red's shoulder.

Once he was done with his inspection, a happy professor Oak returned, his joyous face turning softer. A soft, relieved smile replaced the exhilarated look as he placed his hand on Red's shoulder. The trainer did not react as he heard the professor speak.

"I've never felt this hopeful. Red, it's good to have you back."

* * *

Red's Pikachu cried happily as it jumped around the next morning, waiting for its trainer to come along and go down. It had had the time of its life last night when its trainer's mother caught sight of it after ages. Quite unlike Red, the yellow mouse was the epitome of friendliness when dealing with people it could trust.

_She spoils you,_ Red found himself thinking as he observed the electric-type's behaviour. His mother loved it to death, showering it with attention which it swallowed gratefully. Pulling on his jacket and placing his hat carefully on his head, Red waved his hand to get Pikachu to climb atop his shoulder before he left the room for breakfast. He wasn't used to eating at scheduled hours but he figured that if he was going to stay in civilisation, he should make the effort to act 'civilised'.

"Would you look at that?" he heard his mother say to no one in particular.

He found Delia seated in front of the TV when he reached the last step. Her face lit up as she looked at him - an expression he liked. While he didn't know how to respond to it, he felt that everything was just right when he saw that grin on his mother's face.

"Good morning!"

She said it as if it was the most normal thing in the world for her to see her son walk down in the morning for breakfast, something that was part of her daily routine. He nodded as his Pikachu jumped over to the woman, who caught it in her arms. Red, though, wasn't paying attention as his gaze was fixed firmly on the wall-mounted display, which currently showed a stout man in a light suit looking intently at the screen as he spoke in a crisp voice:

_"...Tickets will be available starting today for a cost of ten thousand Pokemon Dollars. Fans are advised to get them as soon as they can from their nearest Pokemon Centers in all major cities."_

Noticing her son's intent stare, Delia spoke up to elaborate, "Won't this be fun, Red? It's been quite a while since someone's challenged the Pokemon League. I'm not the biggest fan of battling, dear, but I'm sure you can ask Professor Oak to get you a ticket if you want."

At that moment, there was a knock on the front door. The woman put aside Pikachu to go answer the call, wondering out loud who would be at their door at the start of the day.

_"For those of you who have just joined us,"_ the newsreader continued his report. _"We bring you what could possibly be the biggest news in recent times. Ladies and gentlemen, Pokemon fans of all ages, the Pokemon League issued a declaration early this morning, announcing something we haven't heard in recent times. The countdown has begun to a new Elite Four challenge. Prepare yourself, for in three days, the Elite Four's challenge will be taken up by a new trainer. Prepare yourself for the battle of our very own Elite Four member, the apple of the public's eye, the mistress of Dark Pokemon, Irina. She will lock horns against the challenger who goes by the name of-"_

All through the while, the only thing that surprised Red was how quickly everything had been put in place. Before the man on the TV could finish, Red felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked to his right to see who it was. As his eyes met Blue's, he heard his rival speak:

"Didn't think I could manage it so quickly? Helps to have friends in high places. Ready to win this thing, Red?" Blue's signature smirk adorned his face. "Or should I say, _Crimson_?"

* * *

_That's all for the second chapter. Once again, reviews are always welcome.  
_


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